


Madness Behind the Mask

by Cretehype



Category: SCP - Containment Breach
Genre: 035 is a jerk, Alternate Universe - Zombies, Blood and Gore, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Emotional Manipulation, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, F/M, Mind Games, Panic Attacks, Psychological Trauma, Triggers, Violence, an asshole if you will, i mean it is but it doesn't get lovey dovey for a hot minute, this is not a love story
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-19
Updated: 2021-02-20
Packaged: 2021-03-16 03:13:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,368
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29569434
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cretehype/pseuds/Cretehype
Summary: In a post-apocalyptic world, Y/N struggles to survive in the remnants of her home town, scrounging for food and basic resources. After an SCP Foundation experiment gone wrong, the world has been overrun with flesh-eating, reanimated corpses; and it's every man (or woman) for themselves.Disclaimer; this story is not for those who are sensitive to graphic depictions of violence, blood/gore, and manipulation. This fic is not related to Affections and Afflictions/canon/a prequel or sequel.
Relationships: SCP-035 (SCP Foundation)/Reader
Kudos: 9





	Madness Behind the Mask

Sweat ran like relentless rivers down the sides and front of your face, only ceasing their torrential downpour when the back of your hand connected with the opposing side of your face, swiping it out of your eyes. Your hand fell back to pump the air in tandem with your other arm, as your legs went into overdrive, your boots kicking up dry leaves as you practically flew across the forest floor. Your lungs burned as your breath came out in short gasps, rising like plumes of smoke in the cold winter night.

In the distance, a large and what appeared to be an abandoned building came into view, and you nearly collapsed onto your knees and wept then and there, if not for the horrific noises behind you that propelled you forward. Your undead pursuers were hot on your trail, and you hoped you were only imagining their hot, rancid breath on the back of your neck, their mangled and clawed hands swiping at the air behind you in an attempt to snag your collar and pull you into their open, gaping maws.

By the time you reached the entrance to the building, a looming archway, due to its doors being ripped from the hinges, your knees felt like jelly and your calves screamed in protest. Nonetheless, you couldn’t let up for even a millisecond; because death stopped for no man, and neither did zombies. As you passed the threshold that divided the cool interior of the concrete building from the even colder outside world, you spotted out of the corner of your eye what was probably your only saving grace in a situation such as this. You nearly tripped over your own feet in an attempt to change directions, as a dark stairway to your left against the far wall seemed to call to you ominously, promising to encase you in it’s shadows and shield you from the zombie’s view. As utterly terrifying and honestly overpowered the zombies were in terms of speed and agility, it was quite fortunate that they had a horrible sense of direction and sight.

You only slowed your relentless pace to creep up the stone stairs so as to not give away your position, each footstep leaving a small ‘pat’ that you hoped was barely noticeable. You had barely cleared the first ten steps when a low, guttural growl resounded from a few feet away, making your breath hitch and your body tense. Your grip on the stone railing tightened and you raised your head cautiously over the protective barrier to peer at your surroundings for the first time. 

Your heart nearly lept out of your chest as your eyes met with at least 6 pairs of milky white ones, glossed over and unfocused as the bodies they belonged to milled about the large lobby of what might’ve been a law firm once upon a time. They each emitted low, gargled groans and hisses from open maws; some with unhinged or even missing jaws, but all with razor sharp and decaying teeth. You had to force yourself to look away from the horrifying sight, swallowing the lump in your throat as you tried to reason what your best option was now. 

  
  
  
  


You wanted to cry, to curl up in a ball on the filthy floor and wish all of this away. When the first couple of “zombification” cases popped up, there was obvious panic; however, no one could’ve anticipated that the unknown disease would spread so quickly, taking the world by storm and leaving the planet you call a home in utter chaos. Simply staying quiet and complacent; sitting alone in the back of the college classroom daydreaming, lazily eyeing the sea of students in front of you turned into spectating with alarm as student by student, the classroom grew smaller and smaller. Walking down the street to buy a candy bar at a local convenience store turned into quite the endeavor, as one by one the stores went out of business, seeing as everyone who could afford to move in your town got the hell out of dodge. 

The hustle and bustle of everyday city-life became a distant memory over the next two years. The idea of going to an amusement park with what little friends you had at the time became just that; an idea, one that would never become a reality. You missed your friends, you longed to see your family, blaming yourself for moving so far away when you went off to college, and not knowing whether they were safe or not.

You had to stay strong; you had to survive, carry on with life as you had been this past year, holding on to a hope that this would all magically go away, or at the very least, get better over time. That hope had led you into the woods you had just escaped from; word had reached you that there were survivors camping in the state park nearby. The prospect of food and resources, even the thought of human interaction for the first time in a year, sounded too good to pass up. It really was too good to be true; all of the survivors had been turned into the mindless beasts that you still had nightmares about, and now those nightmares had come alive and chased you into a literal corner.

You wiped a stray tear away from your soot-stained cheek with the sleeve of your battered sweater, suppressing a whimper and deciding to continue up the stairs as quietly as you could. You lowered your head, getting on your hands and knees and slowly crawling up the stairs, grit and sand making your palms go red with the friction.

Five minutes later you reached the top, and not knowing whether the coast was clear or not, you remained on your hands and knees, your arms shaking from the adrenaline. You slowly made your way to a pillar in the middle of the large room you found yourself in, crawling around to the side that faced a large, rectangular window of sorts. Your back met with the hard, cold piece of concrete and you let out a small sigh of relief that there was no sign of life up here. You gazed out of the unfinished window of the building that was apparently under construction before all of this, and a lump formed in your throat as your red, tired eyes were met with the gentle glow of the full moon.

  
  
  
  


Fat tears fell from your puffy eyes, rolling slowly down your flushed cheeks, and you hiccuped quietly, covering your mouth with the sleeve of your sweater. You wept for the fifth time that week; you had never been the type of person to let your feelings show, choosing to put up a front for others at the cost of your own mental health. But there was no one to see you cry. No one to see you break down, lying in the rubble of what used to be a strong barrier that separated your inner emotions from the outside world. And so you cried your heart out; it seemed like hours had passed by the time you ran out of tears, lifting your head to the sky.

When was the last time you had just taken a moment to stare at the moon? The sight filled you with determination, and yet, a sense of dread overcame you all at once. This was your reality; the moon that shone so brightly above you only solidified the fact that all of this was real, that you were alone in this, with only a misshapen sphere a billion miles away as your company, for tonight at least.

“The world has gone to shit, but at least I have you, right?” Your words dripped with sarcasm as you brought your knees to your chest, wrapping your arms around your folded legs and placing your chin atop them. Your eyelids grew heavy over the next few minutes, and the last thought you had before slipping into the void of unconsciousness, was how insane you must be for talking to the fucking moon as if it were your friend.


End file.
